


While You Were Sleeping

by afteriwake



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Engagement, F/M, Happy Ending, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Injured Sherlock, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sherlock Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-05 20:57:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5390057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock gets seriously injured in the course of a case, meaning he’s going to have to spend the holidays in the hospital, so Amy comes in while he’s asleep to decorate and waits for him to wake up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladyofhimring](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofhimring/gifts).



> So first off, this part turned out a lot sadder than I had anticipated, so my apologies for that. I got way behind on my [Christmas Fic Countdown](http://penaltywaltz.tumblr.com/post/134408122533/christmas-fic-countdown-2015) and this is supposed to be Day 6's entry, written for **ladyofhimring** with the prompt " _you’re in the hospital for the holidays so i came in while you were sleeping to decorate your room i love you merry christmas_." I also didn't mean for this to be a two-parter but it just kind of came out that way. Hopefully part two will be written soon!

She had had few dealings with her boyfriend’s brother. Sherlock had preferred to keep them far apart for the duration of their relationship. She had the feeling that it was because he didn’t think his brother approved of her. She supposed she could see why; her travels with the Doctor had left her with holes in her past that were hard to explain, and while Sherlock knew the truth and accepted it she was not so sure others in his circle of family, friends and acquaintances would. That was all right, she supposed. He was used to making up stories to cover the truth of things he couldn’t talk about during his time taking care of Moriarty’s organization…coming up with stories to tell of her past and their relationship wasn’t much harder.

She had tried to keep her marriage together. No, scratch that, she hadn’t. Rory hadn’t either, not really. The wounds that Madame Kovarian had inflicted were too deep. It was easier to walk away and leave it all behind in the end. She knew it had hurt the Doctor but eventually she and Rory had managed to at least come to peace with things. They were happy enough in their new lives. Rory had gone back to being a nurse, having the normal life he had really preferred, and she had come on board the TARDIS full time, traveling the stars, moving through space and time.

And then her precious Doctor had gotten tangled up with a consulting detective named Sherlock Holmes and her life had been flipped upside down.

She hadn’t _meant_ to fall for the arrogant arse of a man that they were helping in his crusade against the criminal mastermind who had ties with more than just the criminals on Earth. It had just…happened. She’d heard stories about him when she was in London. She’d known who he was, known about his reputation…known about the intelligence and attitude. But as she got to know him, got to peel back the layers of the man, she saw there was more to him than his puffed up arrogance. He was actually a decent enough person, loyal to his friends, kind at times, thoughtful. Passionate.

Quite passionate.

And before she knew it she was in love with him, simple as that.

What appeared to be two years to everyone else had been nearly four for the two of them, and their relationship had been quite solid, but when he’d gone back they’d had to pretend they were simply friends. So she’d gone to London, made her way as a travel writer, been one of his lesser known, lesser seen friends, and he’d gone back to his life in Baker Street, with no one knowing the extent of their relationship until one day he’d just shown up at her flat saying he couldn’t stand it anymore and he wanted to take her out on a proper date, damn it all who saw.

And that was that.

It had been nearly a year now to their friends, but well over three for them. Marriage wasn’t something they talked about, for a myriad of reasons. There was the fact she’d already done it, the fact he seemed to prefer being a bachelor, the fact the arrangement as it was between them worked out well.

Except now. Now, it seemed as his brother looked at her, it wasn’t going to work well at all.

“So I have to pretend to be his wife to be allowed to stay in the ward?” she asked slowly.

Mycroft Holmes nodded. “He was flown in by the London air ambulance. Right now he’s in the trauma ward, and eventually he’ll be moved to the general surgery ward. They only allow two patients at the bedside at a time. I doubt he’ll be awake often, but I’ve managed to allow his wife to stay past visiting hours. So you will need to pretend to be his wife.” He pulled a small ring box out of his suit pocket and handed it to her. “It was in his sock drawer.”

Her eyes widened at that. He had actually planned on giving her a ring. “He’s going to murder you,” she said, taking the ring box and opening it, staring at the brilliant diamond and ruby ring inside.

“Someone already attempted to do that tonight,” he said.

“Not exactly the best time for a morbid joke, Mycroft,” she said, a slight edge to her voice as she plucked the ring out of the box. She slipped it onto her ring finger on her left hand and was pleased it was a perfect fit.

“My apologies, Amelia,” he said. “I have a wedding band as well, though that is only temporary. If you do accept his proposal, if he does intend on making one, I am sure the two of you will get bands of your own.”

Her head snapped up and she stared at Mycroft. “What do you mean, ‘if’?”

Mycroft was quiet. “The damage was extensive, Amelia. There is the possibility of brain damage. Sherlock…may not be the same man when he wakes up. He may not remember things.” He paused. “He may not remember his relationship with you, or certain…details…of it.”

Amy nodded slowly, closing the lid of the ring box before looking down. She needed to steel herself for anything. “So he’ll be there for a time?”

“At least a few days. I’m pulling strings to ensure him a private room. He will not have to share it with anyone.”

“All right,” she said. “Do I need to go with you right now?”

He shook his head. “If you need to compose yourself, I understand. Just show them your identification as Amelia Pond and you’ll be allowed into his room.”

“All right,” she said. After a moment, Mycroft left, and Amy sat down and looked at the ring. Christmas was in two days. Had he planned on surprising her with this ring when she woke up in his bed Christmas morning? Was he waiting for some other perfect time? She ran a finger over the stones. It all should have gone differently. She would have said yes if he’d asked. She would have said yes with a wide smile on her face and tears in her eyes. She’d have let him slip the ring on her finger and thrown her arms around his neck and kissed him all over and drug him off to bed and thanked him profusely.

It shouldn’t have happened like this.

She just hoped that when he woke up, he still wanted her to have the ring, wanted to be with her. Hell, she hoped when he woke up, he still loved her. 

She at least wanted _that_ much.


	2. Chapter 2

They had decorated Baker Street. It had been quite a bit of fun when they had; they’d cracked open a bottle of wine and even though Sherlock rarely imbibed he’d had some with her, and they’d played cheesy Christmas pop songs as they made the place look festive. They’d ended the night in front of the fireplace, with her somehow having modeled a set of lacy red and green lingerie topped off with an elf hat that ended up flung on the tree along with Sherlock’s pants. It was rather awkward when Mrs. Hudson walked in on them the next morning. It had been one of her favorite memories with him.

She didn’t want to think he wouldn’t remember that when he came too.

When she got to the Royal London Hospital she was told he wasn’t out of surgery yet but she could wait in his room. She nodded and moved into the room to wait for him. It looked so sterile and unappealing. She had brought a few bags of decorations with her, after asking Mycroft if it would be all right. He had said he supposed there would be no harm, as Sherlock would indeed be there over the holidays. She would wait until he was wheeled into the room, however.

She had been there for nearly an hour when he was brought in. Her eyes widened when she saw him. He looked like he’d been put through the ringer, for wont of a better term. There were cuts all over his face, and she could see he was going to have bruises all over. Some of his limbs were in casts already, and it was quite obvious he’d undergone extensive surgery. And worst of all, they’d had to shave his head. When the nurses left, she moved to his bed and ran her fingers gently along his cheek. “Oh, Sherlock,” she said sadly, her heart breaking. Someone had tried so hard to kill him, and from what the doctor had told her while the nurses were getting him settled, they’d almost succeeded. He had a long road to recovery.

And she’d be damned if he’d be walking it alone.

After a moment she started to decorate the room. There were garlands in one bag, cheap silver tinsel strands that she hung up on the window. Next there were two door length prismatic posters that she hung up, one on the back of the door leading out to the hall and the other on the door to the lavatory. There were a few little Christmas lantern decorations she hung up on the top of the window after that, and then finally she went and pulled out a tiny Christmas tree that had tiny decorations on it and set it on the table next to his bed. It wasn’t as cheery as Baker Street was, but it was something.

She went to his bedside and sat next to him, reaching over for his hand, grasping it. “I don’t know if you can hear me, if you still remember who I am and who I am to you, but…I love you, Sherlock. I’m here for you however you need me when you wake up, for as long as you want me to be.” She raised their hands and then kissed the back of his hand before settling in and waiting. She knew he would have visitors, that there would be people who wanted to know how he was doing, and she supposed she would need to steel herself to deal with all of that.

**\---**

She didn’t know how long it had been when she felt movement next to her. She hadn’t left his room at all; the nurses had taken pity on her and brought food to her, and let her sleep on the other bed in the room. But even then, she preferred to sit by his side, her hand grasping his, her head by his as she dozed. After a moment she realized that it was Sherlock’s fingers rubbing against the engagement ring on her hand and she lifted her head up, giving him a smile. “Hey,” she said, unsure what reaction she would get.

He opened his eyes, letting them flutter slightly as he got used to the light in the room. Once they were adjusted he grasped her hand more tightly. “Amelia,” he said quietly.

She felt a sense of relief wash over her. “You remember me,” she said. “Do you…do you remember…us?” she asked.

“My memory is patchy of the events surrounding recent events, but I do know who you are and our history together,” he said, his thumb going back to the ring on her finger. “I didn’t realize I had proposed yet, though.”

“You didn’t,” she said, giving him a smile. “Mycroft knew you had the ring in your sock drawer. The only way I could stay here was if I was your wife, so he gave me the ring. You didn’t actually propose.”

“I’m glad,” he said softly. “I would have been devastated to have forgotten that.”

She moved closer. “Do you still want to propose?” she asked.

He shut his eyes and was quiet for a long moment, so long that Amy was almost afraid he’d gone back to sleep. “You may not want to be part of my life,” he said softly when he finally spoke. “All of this may take too long for me to bounce back from. I may not fully recover. I may never be the same man you loved before.”

“I don’t care,” she said, tightening her hold on his hand. Then she lifted their hands up and kissed his hand. “I will fall in love with you all over again. I will learn to love whoever you are now, and I will stay by your side. I won’t make the same mistake I did with Rory by running away from my problems, by pushing you away. I promise you that, Sherlock.”

He nodded slightly and then opened his eyes. “I love you, Amelia.”

“I love you too, Sherlock,” she whispered, tears in her eyes as she set their hands down and then moved up and kissed his forehead. Eventually the ring already on her finger would be given to her by him and it would mean something more, a promise of a future together, and whatever it was that he had to go through, whatever it was that happened in the future, they would get through it together.


End file.
